You've Fallen, Haven't You? (UNDERFELL)
by xXLoveThatAccentXx
Summary: "Legends say those who climb the mountain never return." In this exciting twist of Undertale, a child named Frisk falls into a nightmarish world where it's kill or be killed, and monsters roam in the dark. However, Frisk beleives there might be hope deep within these corrupted beings, and is determined to change their minds for the better. *FILE SAVED
1. One Upon a Time

_)|(_

 _Long ago, two races ruled over Earth: HUMANS and MONSTERS._

 _One day, war broke out between the two races._

 _After a long battle, the humans were victorious._

 _They sealed the monsters underground with a magic spell._

 _To this day, they wait underneath Mount Ebott._

 _(...)_

 _Legends say that those who climb the mountain never return._

 _)|(_


	2. Your Best Friend

**Alright, beauties. The updates might come slow at first since I'm still finishing "The Recovery", but it'll speed up once that's finished.**

 **Note: I know Frisk is a 'they', but it became difficult to write like that as it messed up my point of view ('they' generally being used for groups) so I hope 'she' will suffice. I hope it won't change your personal view of Frisk.**

 **Anyways, enjoy~**

 **xXLoveThatAccentXx**

* * *

Frisk opened her eyes, mind still hazy from the long sleep. She lie on her back on something soft, gazing directly into the bright light that had woken her. Dazed and confused, she lifted her arm to rub at her eyes.

She didn't remember much. Only fragments came when she called… she remembered climbing the mountain out of curiosity… stumbling across a wide hole in the ground… crawling on her hands and knees to peek over the edge…

Falling in…

Frisk looked up again, gasping as she came to the realization. Sure enough, the bright light she'd woken to was far, far above her, the source spilling through a dilated hole that, judging from how small it looked, boasted an impossible distance. She'd fallen into the mountain.

In shock, Frisk lowered her head to get a grasp of her surroundings. She'd woken in a big cavern, dusted with leaves and kissed with overgrowth of various plants. Frisk's hands touched something soft beneath her, and she looked down to see she'd landed on a bed of golden flowers. They were beautiful, and had grown thick. It seemed that was what had broken her fall.

Frisk pushed herself to her feet. She was still disoriented from her fall, and she stumbled, falling back into the flowers face-first. With a muffled squeal of frustration, she pushed herself back up, this time holding steady.

There was a potential exit to the left; a gaping mouth of a hole in the wall, filling Frisk with a hope that she wasn't trapped down here after all.

Wobbly, she made her way to the hole, abandoning the comforting light of the surface she could never reach, and peered inside.

It looked like a pathway of sorts. The rocky, time-worn mouth opened into a tunnel, leading deeper and deeper into the mountain; a decent size, lit by the sunbeams pouring in from the cave Frisk was about to leave, and dark and void near the back. Frisk looked around. There was a large, hollowed out crevice directly to the left, lit also by a bottleneck opening to the surface world.

The light in this cave illuminated a patch of shaggy green grass in the corner, and a boulder leaned up against the wall to form a miniature cave, filled with dry plant material. The walls of the cave were lined with little scratches.

Curious, Frisk investigated this little cave. It was a very clean cave, being void of spiderwebs or debris. The bumpy ground even looked as if it'd been swept. It was as if the cave was being cleaned every so often… As if someone had been living here. Now that Frisk thought about it, she noticed a new smell; the cave smelled sweet, like cookies.

Suddenly, as she watched, the ground in front of her broke, crumbling a little bit, and from a newly formed hole in the ground popped a flower.

The stem of the flower was thick and long, a healthy green, as if light and water had never been out of its reach. The head was big; perhaps an entire hand's length across, but it was facing away from Frisk, so she couldn't say much more about it yet. Its petals were large and droopy; yellow, like the flowers in the other cave, shining golden in the sun. As Frisk watched, the flower turned around to look at her; literally.

The flower had a face. Big green eyes and a little mouth shaped like an 'o'.

"Aah!" Frisk and the flower squealed in terror at the same time, with Frisk falling backwards onto her bottom and the flower sticking its head back into the ground. However, the flower didn't completely leave; its big spiky leaves and long stem still poking out of the crumbly earth, trembling every few seconds.

Frisk blinked to ensure her vision wasn't failing. Nope, there was definitely a living breathing flower in front of her, sticking its head in the earth like an ostrich and making definite whimpering sounds. It was completely mad, but to be honest, falling around two hundred feet into a mountain without injury was far-fetched by itself, so Frisk didn't really know what else she was expecting.

Frisk pushed herself into a sitting position, staring wide-eyed at the plant, shock dispersing into curiosity. She cleared her throat. "I'm sorry, did I scare you…?"

The shaking stopped, and slowly, the flower's eyes peeked up from under the dirt. Seeing that Frisk wasn't planning on hurting it, it straightened up, cocking its head and giving Frisk a weird look.

"What in the blazes are _you_ doing down here?" The flower inquired, seemingly in disbelief. The flower's voice was high toned like those chipmunks in the movies, but low enough it could be distinguished as male.

Frisk shrugged a bit awkwardly. "I… fell?"

"Well, of course you did! I wasn't here expecting you to float down, was I?" The flower seemed a lot braver now, even arrogant. "What I meant was, why did you even _come_ here?! Don't you know the super famous legend of humans _mysteriously_ disappearing up here? Weren't you the least bit _intimidated_?"

"Well, I…"

"It's been so long… You'd have thought humans would have gotten the point by now… Now I'll have another one weighing on my conscious… I don't know if I can take much more of this…." The flower seemed upset, babbling senselessly as Frisk tried to explain. Finally Frisk just stood up and flicked the flower on the face.

"Ouch!" He yelped, recoiling a bit with a somewhat offended expression. "That _hurt_!"

"Can you please help me? I don't know what's going on." This was more of a plea than a request. Ten minutes into the underground and already people (plants?) were speaking nonsense.

"What is there to _know_? Shouldn't it have crossed your mind that a big scary mountain is a bad thing...? Ugh, fine. Let's start from the beginning, shall we?" The flower cracked its neck (if that's possible) and straightened up with a bright smile. "Howdy! I'm Flowey the flower! You're obviously new to the Underground, so let me learn you a thing or two."

Frisk suddenly felt a tugging sensation from her chest, and when she looked down, she was surprised to see a glowing heart hovering in front of her. It was small and humble, drifting modestly a few inches from her face, and Frisk smiled in spite of herself.

"See that? That's your soul. It's the _very culmination_ of your being. That gets broke, and you're dead as dirt. Monsters get to rip it out of your body and absorb it for themselves." Flowey put it plainly, not bothering to sugarcoat it. "You see, when a monster absorbs a human soul, not only can they cross the Barrier that keeps us down here, but they can become really powerful. And trust me, you _don't_ want that to happen. So I'd try to keep that little heart inside you if I were you."

"A Barrier?"

"You know, from the story? ' _The humans trapped the monsters underground with a magic spell'_? That Barrier is the magic spell. A human soul and a monster soul can cross it together. More on that later. What we have to focus on now is self-defense. If you encounter a monster, more than likely will they go straight for your soul." With a wave of Flowey's leaves, the ground broke and several little seeds popped out to hover in the air beside him.

"These are bullets." Flowey explained. " _Dodge them_!" And with a swipe of his leaves, the pellets flew straight toward Frisk's heart.

Frisk yelped and jumped to the side, the bullets narrowly missing her heart and nicking her on the shoulders. She gasped and grasped her shoulders in her hands, sinking to her knees, trying to squeeze the pain away.

"Ah… I hit you… sorry, but you've really got to work on that." Flowey shook his head, but Frisk could see a bit of guilt written on his features. He didn't meet Frisk's eyes. "Welp, looks like you've got the basics. The tunnel leads to the edge of the Ruins, then keep going straight until you reach the King's castle. That's where the Barrier is." He turned around and began digging a few snail shells from dirt. "Send me a postcard from the Surface."

Frisk blinked once. Blinked twice. "I-I'm going... alone?"

The flower visibly flinched. "I'm not much of a traveller."

Frisk felt something within her die a bit, and at the same time felt a rush of shock. "B-But… I don't know where I'm going! I don't want to get lost!"

"I've told you all _I_ know. Besides, it's not my problem where you end up. I've got myself to worry about." His voice was more of a growl than a squeak now.

Frisk was hurt at the flower's choice of words. She thought Flowey might be a potential friend, but now she wasn't so sure. "You know, you're not very nice."

" _I'm_ not very nice?" Flowey gave a haughty laugh. "Just you wait till you meet _everyone else._ 'Mean' is an understatement. Compared to them, I'm the best friend you've got."

Frisk narrowed her eyes, upset. "Then act like one! I need your help. Please."

The flower bit his lip at Frisk's tone, and suddenly, he looked skittish. He turned back around, just a little, his petals curling inward. He stuttered under his breath, Frisk barely being able to hear.

"No… not again…" He muttered, with a shaky breath. "I… I can't…."

Then he sighed. He turned around completely. He gave Frisk a long look. "...I suppose… I could take you to the end of the Ruins. Yeah. But no farther! You hear?"

Frisk sighed in relief and nodded. As crazy as the flower seemed, talking to himself and muttering under his breath, he obviously knew the ropes. At least he was better than the alternative; a murderous monster intent on ripping Frisk's soul out.

"Wait a moment." The flower instructed, and picked up the snail shells in his mouth, diving into the earth again and popping up next to the miniature cave next to the cavern wall. He carefully placed the shells inside. When Frisk leaned over to see inside the little cave, she saw that it was full of lush green grass where the flower could sleep, lined with shells and pretty rocks. Up on the ceiling of the little cave, which couldn't be more than three feet tall, were some hanging decorations; flowers, vines, feathers. In the very back, Frisk could just make out the most surprising features; a faded ribbon, a worn plastic knife, a dirty blue jacket in a crumpled heap, and a paperback book, burned along the edges.

With a squeal of delight, completely disregarding respect, Frisk dove forward to get a closer look at the objects. Flowey made a strangled noise of indignance, but Frisk ignored him as she pulled out the ribbon.

"What do you think you're -?! Oh, never mind." Flowey groaned. "It sure was nice of me to lend you that, wasn't it? What do you say?"

"It's so pretty!" Frisk giggled, and Flowey rolled his eyes. She tied the ribbon into her shoulder-length hair and twirled around the cave. "Where'd you get it? Where'd you get all the human stuff?"

"They fall." Flowey looked up at the hole to the surface, so high above. Frisk nodded in understanding.

"Can I keep this?" She asked, touching the ribbon.

"Might as well. Here, take the jacket too. Might get cold later on. We are underground after all. Besides," He sighed, a bit absentmindedly. "...It's not as if I can wear it."

Frisk shook the jacket out and slipped into it. The goosebumps on her arms disappeared as the thin fabric trapped in her body heat. Zipping the jacket, up, Frisk looked at the walls of the cave again. The little marks seemed to stand out a lot more now, as if they wanted to be seen. They lined the walls ominously, too many to count: scratches not more than an inch long. Tally marks.

"What are those?" Frisk asked Flowey, pointing.

Flowey gave the scratches a weary stare with a faraway look in his eyes, and for a moment, he seemed older than he let on. "...I'm counting the days."

He said nothing more about them.


	3. The Ruins

At first, the only dilemma was that there was no logical way for Flowey to follow Frisk through the Ruins. Flowey could travel underground but there was a good possibility he'd pop up too far away and lose her. The solution?

Frisk took hold of Flowey's stem with both hands.

"What are you- _Aaah_!" Flowey squealed as he was pulled clean out of the ground. He writhed around like a snake in Frisk's grasp. Clearly, he was upset about this. "Human, what the actual heck?!"

"Sorry, I thought I could carry you…" Frisk shrugged stiffly, not sure what to do next. Flowey groaned, then wrapped his long roots around Frisk's left arm so that she could let go of his stem.

"Is that good enough for you?" He muttered, his head dropping onto Frisk's shoulder.

"Mmhmm!" Frisk seemed happy. "But my name's not 'Human'. It's Frisk!"

"Lovely to meet you, Frisk." Flowey mumbled, sounding as though it wasn't lovely at all. This only made Frisk giggle. She peeked out of Flowey's cave and into the tunnel. Flowey said that this tunnel lead far into the Underground, branching into a labyrinth of corridors one could easily lose themselves in, forever. With an uneasy glance at the ribbon in Frisk's hair, he said that he knew.

Frisk took a deep breath. She straightened her posture, bit her lip, looked again to Flowey on her shoulder, and stepped into the tunnel.

* * *

"The first thing you need to know is that you're not alone here in the Ruins."

As soon as they'd ventured far enough into the mountain that the sunlight from behind them disappeared completely, Frisk began to notice a few things. It was very dark, so nothing much could be said but this; The walls became smoother, more rectangular, like a real hallway, and the empty void of darkness around them began to... whisper. To breathe. Frisk could feel eyes upon her as she walked. It was about five minutes of complete silence from Flowey until Frisk saw the ominous purple glow of the first torch. That's when he began to narrate.

"You're not alone…" He continued, looking around warily, as if someone could be listening in. "...In more ways than one. Not only are there little monsters like me scattered about the Ruins, but there's also something we little monsters like to call a _Boss Monster_. She lives here, as a sort of _caretaker_. She's much stronger than any one of us and could kill you in one hit. You have to be careful never to run into her, okay? If you hear a woman's voice… giggling… you have to hide straight away."

"What is she?" Frisk asked faintly. She realized getting through the Ruins was the only way to leave the Underground, but did Flowey really have to tell her about this 'Boss Monster' _just now_?!

"Her name is Toriel. She's insane. That's all you need to know." Flowey told her firmly, and Frisk nodded uneasily.

They walked past the third torch without saying anything else.

* * *

Frisk managed to escape a few monsters by herself, only getting mildly hurt. However, it wasn't the escape Flowey had anticipated.

Frisk would win the fight by showing mercy.

As soon as the battle would start, the monster-usually the green-furred Froggit, or the slimy purple blob that was Moldsmal-would immediately attack, going straight for Frisk's now vulnerable soul. Frisk, however, ignoring Flowey's screams to fight back, would only dodge. Then, to the monster's surprise, she'd give them a smile and spare. This would only lead to a frustrated grunt on the monster's end, delivering another blow that Frisk would sidestep. This would continue several times until the monster, tired, annoyed, and even somewhat ashamed would slink away, deciding Frisk wasn't worth their time if they couldn't get to her soul.

The battles were very time-consuming and Flowey got skittish, nervously urging Frisk to get a move on before nightfall. That's when the torches were snuffed-by none other than Toriel-and the "Night Crawlers" came out. Those were the bigger, more dangerous monsters that lurked in the cover of the dark. Upon hearing this, Frisk made it a point to walk quickly.

It was only when Frisk made it to the fourteenth torch that something happened.

* * *

Flowey had told her that every monster was keen on ripping Frisk's soul from her body and/or tearing her to pieces, but with the next monster she came to meet, this wasn't the case.

Past the fourteenth torch, just to her right, Frisk saw an open corridor, lined with some glowing mushrooms. With a look around the other hallways Frisk concluded that this corridor was the only one that did not lead to a dead end. But when she attempted to enter it, she was stopped in her tracks by a jet black ghost, morphing into her path straight out of the wall.

He didn't seem to have expected her, quite literally flying backwards a few feet. He bore an uncanny resemblance to the ghosts from 'Pac Man', with the only different characteristics being he was completely black, his eyes and mouth were lined in a blood red, and he wore an old-fashioned headset.

"Aaahh…" He huffed, his voice all echoey and weird. Like Flowey, he sounded agitated. "What do _you_ want?"

Frisk opened her mouth, then closed it. Then opened it again, and stuttered an apology. Apparently, this ghost didn't know she was human, or he'd have attacked straight away. "I-I'm sorry, I was just hoping to... go that way?" She pointed past the ghost.

The ghost sighed long and deep, as if he wasn't keen on moving. " _Whyyy_?"

"Um... so I can get to the end of the Ruins...?"

"... _Why_?"

Flowey made a strangled noise next to Frisk's ear. "That's none of your business, Nabstablook! Just move already so we can get through!"

"Ohhh… It's you…" The ghost-Nabstablook-groaned, as if he were less than happy to see Flowey. "It's been a while… I was hoping I wouldn't see you again… Is this _another_ one of your 'friends'? How many do you plan on taking through the Ruins anyway…? You know Toriel's just gonna kill 'em, right...?"

"...I'm not planning to let that happen again."

Frisk flinched on 'again'. She'd gotten the hint that Flowey had helped multiple people through the Ruins, but she didn't expect Toriel to have foiled his plans multiple times. She hoped Flowey knew what he was doing this time.

"Heh… Wow… You aren't even able to protect your own friends… Maybe all you really care about is yourself." Nabstablook taunted, still not moving from the middle of the path.

"Well, at least _I_ didn't let a crazy scientist take away my own _cousin_." Flowey shot back with a menacing sneer. "Who's the more selfish one now?"

Flowey's words hit the ghost hard. Nabstablook's expression darkened, if that was possible.

"You're one cocky flower, arent'cha?" He growled, quiet no longer. Frisk backed up a step, putting up her hands.

"Please, don't fight." She begged. "Don't listen to him, just… just let us pass, and we'll leave you alone."

Nabstablook blinked, still glaring at Flowey. Finally, he sighed, backing down and drifting sideways. "Fine. Only because you're so _polite_. Now get out of my sight."

Frisk took the invitation immediately and hurried past him, not looking back. Flowey stayed quiet on her shoulder, seemingly ashamed of himself. _Good_ , Frisk thought, upset. He had no right to hit that ghost so hard.

They hurried along in silence after that. Frisk didn't think the evening could get any crazier.

She was wrong.

* * *

The meeting was sudden. Frisk rounded a corner after a short battle with a furry Froggit, and, seeing that she had a sort of pattern down, was completely unconcerned about what she would face next.

Then she came face to face with Toriel.

At least, that's what Frisk assumed according to Flowey's description. The woman was extremely tall, with the tips of her long sharp horns almost brushing the ceiling of the cave, and she was just about drowned in long, matted fur that seemed more yellow than white. Her long snout ended in a dry, cracked nose and two unnervingly pointy fangs poked out from under her black upper lip. She donned a dirty black dress torn at the knees, with a strange symbol along the chest, sewn in red. Her big hands and feet ended in curved, black claws.

In other words, she was the supreme overlord of the goats, and boy, did she look mad.

The run-in was so surprising that Toriel stumbled back in shock, eyes flaming, and emitted a blood curdling shriek that seemed to echo along the cave for miles.

" _RUN_!" Flowey screamed immediately, and Frisk had no objection. She turned tail and _flew_.

It didn't take long for Toriel to react. As soon as Frisk turned around, Toriel surged forward, swiping with a massive paw. By some miracle it soared over Frisk's head, missing by mere inches, and ruffled her hair with the force of a hurricane. Frisk's heart blinked in front of her, stupidly making itself vulnerable, so Frisk wrapped her arms around it to protect it, and continued to run. Her legs worked like they'd never worked before, her strides coming in lengths she'd never dreamed she could take. Behind her, Toriel's footsteps shook the ground, and her bellows rattled her bones. Frisk was terrified and Flowey didn't seem much better, burying his face in Frisk's neck with his petals curled in. As Frisk sprinted past little monsters, they jumped out of the way instantaneously, as if they knew who she was running from, and in no way wanted to tap its wrath.

Torch by torch flew past, their light doing little to illuminate the path ahead. Frisk nearly collided head first into a wall several times, always managing to catch herself at the last minute, and turn. The last time, however, she wasn't so lucky.

Running blindly after passing yet another dim torch, Frisk had no idea of the dead end she'd reached until she smashed into it. Fortunately, she wasn't going fast enough for the wall of dirt and rock to give her brain damage, but it did do its number and she collapsed, stunned. Her ears were ringing as blood and adrenaline rushed through her body at a thousand miles an hour, and her vision began to go staticy. Her heart-soul beat weakly in front of her, just as worn out. Faintly, she could hear Flowey screaming at her to get up, but her arms and legs were like jelly and her breaths were too short. Paralyzed and cornered, she was easy bait for Toriel.

Toriel's footsteps slowed, as if she sensed this, and decided to take her time. As Frisk pulled herself into a sitting position, rubbing at the bleeding cuts above her eyebrows, Toriel stepped into what was left of Frisk's field of vision. A red light spilled over them both; the source of which, a bright red flame hovering in Toriel's right paw. _Fire magic_ , Frisk assumed, _to burn me to ashes_.

"Sorry, Flowey..." Frisk whispered to the trembling plant around her neck, and she braced herself for an unscheduled cooking.

However, it didn't come.

After a few minutes of holding her breath, Frisk peeked up at the Boss Monster. To the human's surprise, instead of fury, the monster wore an expression of deep concern. Toriel was frozen, her big red eyes slanted in worry.

"C-Chara…?" She had time to squeak out, before Frisk's vision went dark.


	4. Home

_Frisk… can you hear me…?_

 _Frisk, wake up…_

 _Stay determined…_

* * *

The first thing that came to mind was " _Where am I_?"

The second would have to be " _What on earth is that smell_?"

Frisk rubbed the crust out of her eyes and pried them open. At first, she started to freak out, believing she was blind; but as her eyes adjusted, it became clear that the room was just dark. She was tucked under what had to be a blanket, and her head was rested on a pillow, although they both smelled like and seemed to be covered in a thin layer of dust. But the smell that really stood out was the scent of burnt cinnamon, which for some reason wafted strongly throughout the room.

A quick evaluation of her surroundings and Frisk came to the conclusion she was in a bedroom, tucked in a bed, dressed in only the torn blue overalls she fell in (not the new jacket or ribbon from Flowey, sadly), barefoot, and with Flowey wrapped around her neck, asleep.

Toriel. Toriel must've brought her here. But why didn't she kill her? She had the open opportunity to cook Frisk then and there, but she didn't. Why?

Frisk took a deep breath. The 'why' didn't matter, she decided; it only mattered that she was still alive, and that she had to get out of the Ruins before anything else tried to kill her.

Carefully, quietly, Frisk untangled Flowey and lay him on the pillow, then swung her feet over the side of the bed and stood up. She swayed a little, the bruises on her head throbbing a little, but managed to regain her balance. With the tiny light filtering in from under the door, she saw the outline of a lamp on a desk across the room, and she switched it on. The lamp illuminated the room in a warm yellow.

The source of the burnt cinnamon smell happened to be a black, dry-looking pie in the middle of the room. It looked extremely unappetizing, but Frisk picked it up anyway for the sake of being polite, as it obviously had been made for her. She placed it on the table and looked for something to carry it in. It was food after all, and if she got hungry later on, she'd need it. She found a plastic bag of dulled crayons and a small black knapsack, so she emptied the bag of crayons, zipped the pie inside, and placed that in her new knapsack. After that she went to the big wooden closet and opened it up. Examining her old, saggy overalls with distaste, she browsed through the clothing in the closet so she could find something cleaner and warmer.

 _Everything_ within the closet was striped. Striped shirts, striped dresses, striped jackets, striped button-ups… everything. And with only one color coordination; red and black. Frisk didn't have to be picky. Everything looked the same; black, with red stripes, all the same size. Kid-sized. Frisk-sized.

Frisk finally pulled out a black sweater with a single red stripe across the middle. She had a feeling she'd need something warm; Flowey said it'd get colder later on, as it was underground after all. It was long sleeved and turtle-necked, and made with thick, warm-looking wool. After that she took a pair of stockings and slipped a pair of boy's trousers (for the deeper pockets, of course) over them, to make extra sure her legs wouldn't freeze. To finish it off she grabbed some clean socks to put over the stockings and pushed her feet into some clunky black boots. Pretty complicated dressing session, but it was better than freezing to death. And the color black was well known for attracting the heat.

Frisk combed her hair with her fingers and turned back to the bed, where it seemed Flowey was just waking up.

"Hmm… Frisk…?" He stretched his stem and looked up at her with tired eyes. "...Where…?"

"Toriel's house." Frisk explained.

"Tori…?" Suddenly his eyes shot open and he jumped up. "Oh my gosh! Frisk, we're not dead! Oh my gosh! We have to leave-now!"

"I know." Frisk shouldered the knapsack and stretched out her arm to him, inviting him to slither onto her shoulder again, which he did. "But first I want to thank her."

"T- _Thank_ her?! She almost _killed_ you!"

"But she didn't! She _saved_ me! She wants to _help_ us! Why else would we have woken up in a warm bed in a nice room?"

"So… so she can…" Flowey seemed frustrated. "Ugh… I don't like what you're doing, Frisk. If she burns us alive, I won't say I told you so."

Frisk gave him a wobbly smile. Come to think of it, thanking Toriel _did_ seem pretty intimidating… remembering the tall, furry monster that pursued her through the Ruins, shrieking and stomping… Toriel _had_ tried to kill her. But waking up safe told Frisk that something stopped the Caretaker's flickering red fire from touching one hair on Frisk's head. Frisk didn't know what that was. But she couldn't just run off without acknowledging Toriel's kindness.

Frisk looked back to Flowey, but he wasn't paying attention to her anymore. He was gazing around the room with a faraway look in his eyes, as if he saw something about it that Frisk couldn't see.

"What's wrong?" Frisk asked him quietly, bringing him slowly from his daze. He made a gesture that Frisk assumed was the closest thing a flower could get to a shrug.

"Nothing." He answered with a strange sincerity. "It hasn't changed one bit."

* * *

The door to Frisk's room opened directly into a well-lit long horizontal hallway that, on the left, ended three doors down in a wall and a mirror, and on the right, ended five feet into the front room. Walking into the front room, Frisk was greeted with the smell of burnt cinnamon (although much fainter than the smell in her room), stained beige shag carpet, a couple of dead potted plants that drooped sadly to the floor, and a slowly decaying staircase leading down, protected by a frail wooden railing that looked as though it'd collapse at any moment. Directly across the room where Frisk stood was an entrance into what was supposedly a parlor. Frisk decided that was the best place to find Toriel.

The parlor seemed to be conjoined with the dining room, as a roughly made wooden dining table with four chairs could be found in the corner. On the other end was a fireplace constructed of loose stones, with two huge reading leather chairs set in front of it; one flat and worn, the other looking brand new, covered in a sheet of dust. There were a few ratty children's blankets and pillows on the ground, an open storybook splayed across the pillows, the papers oily and browned as though time hadn't been kind to them. The parlor was empty, but not for long.

Toriel entered through a doorway on the left; the kitchen. Her hands were covered in a black dust that smelled of burnt cinnamon, and she was wearing a torn apron, stained with batter. When she saw Frisk, she did not scowl or yell, but instead gave her a warm smile.

"It is good to see you have awoken, Chara." She giggled in her rough, low voice. "Asriel and I have made butterscotch cinnamon pie! We left a piece in your room. How did you like it?"

Frisk was taken aback. Who was this 'Chara'? Did Toriel mistake Frisk for someone else? And who was this 'Asriel' she spoke of? There didn't seem to be anyone in the house except for the three of them.

But when Toriel looked down at her side, and began to talk openly to someone that wasn't there, Frisk understood. There was no Asriel.

Frisk didn't want to be the one to tell Toriel that, though. For her sake and Flowey's, she played along. "It was delicious, thank you. I left the empty plate in my room."

"Very nice!" Toriel clapped her hands like an excited child. Then she gasped. "Oh! It is just about eight o'clock!" She raised a stained paw to her mouth and called out. "Asgore! Come down into the hearth room for family time! It is time to read a story!"

Toriel skipped over to the flat reading chair and plopped down, lifting an imaginary child that Frisk assumed was Asriel into her lap and hugging herself.

Flowey leaned over to whisper into Frisk's ear, his voice strangely sad. "Just as I thought. She's gone insane. Listen, Frisk, Toriel thinks you're Chara, so for both of our sakes, keep up the act. Call her 'mother' and listen to her stories. We'll leave after she goes to bed."

"How do you know that'll work?" Frisk whimpered. She didn't want to make a wrong move. If Toriel was as crazy as Flowey made her out to be, it might be dangerous to get on her bad side.

"Because… It doesn't matter how I know. Just play along."

"Chara?"

Frisk looked up at Toriel again, who was patting her leg, inviting Frisk to climb onto her lap. Frisk did. Toriel's lap was bony underneath all that fur, as if she didn't eat very well. Frisk tried to swallow her nausea as Toriel wrapped her in her bony arms, humming.

The goat woman took a thick, worn blue book from the mantle of the fireplace and opened up to the middle, where a bookmark had been poking out. Frisk swallowed again when she noticed the bookmark was a jagged chain. What kind of a mother did Toriel think she was?

"' _The Legend of Humans and Monsters, Chapter Seven_ '." Toriel read lovingly, smoothing out the pages with her clawed hands. "This is the story of mommy and daddy, my darlings, so listen closely! Hmm… ' _King Asgore produced a steel battleaxe from the folds of his cloak, and raised it high for all monsterkind to see_ '…"

* * *

"...'Shouting out a battlecry for all monsterkind to hear, and forging a path for all monsterkind to follow, preparing them for the war of their freedom'." Flowey recited to Frisk from memory when Toriel had fallen asleep in her reading chair, the book still open in her lap. Frisk had climbed off Toriel's bony legs not long after she'd fallen into unconsciousness, sneaking away into the front room, and now Flowey was explaining to Frisk the Legend of Monsters and Humans through the monsters' point of view; something Frisk had never before considered. "You see, we never wanted to hurt you in the beginning. Hundreds of years ago, we lived together in harmony. But the King of Monsters and the King of Humans had a disagreement somewhere along the line and that lead to a major dishevelment within the two kingdoms. Humans and Monsters became racist toward one another, each blaming the other for the smallest mistakes. Finally, the anger too far kindled, Humans declared war upon Monsters, and they won despite our best efforts. They sealed us Underground with a magic spell-the _Barrier_."

"But that's not _my_ fault." Frisk reasoned. "It's been _hundreds_ of years. Why do you all still hate us?"

Flowey sighed, shaking his head. "We don't attack you because we _hate_ you, Frisk. We're just... _desperate_."

Frisk entered her room one last time to check for anything she'd need. It didn't look like there were any articles of clothing or pieces of junk that screamed _significance_ , so she turned back around; but suddenly, she felt something stir within her, something thoughtful, telling her to go back.

 _The bedside table, Frisk. Look inside_. A voice whispered, just a slight breath at the back of her mind. Feeling as though this was some sort of conscious of hers, Frisk did as it told her to do.

Inside the bedside table were a few decaying papers, displaying various crayon drawings. Sitting atop these pictures, like a paperweight, was a gold heart locket. Frisk felt Flowey's breath catch in his throat, as she picked it up into her hand, smoothing away the dust and allowing the gold to catch a glimmer of light from the lamp.

 _Take care of it, Frisk._


	5. Heartache

**You guys I feel so stupid. I totally forgot this chapter. Well, this should explain a lot. HAHA! Enjoy!**

Frisk swallowed as she made her way downstairs. Flowey told her that this stairway would lead to the exit of the Ruins, and that was where he would leave her. For some reason, this scared her. Maybe she didn't like the idea of losing her only friend. Maybe she didn't want to be alone. Regardless, she wasn't keen on hurrying, and took her time, trying to memorize the rhythm of his breathing and the feel of his stem wrapped around her arm. She would miss Flowey.

The stairway ended, and left Frisk at the mouth of a long hallway. Taking a deep breath, Frisk started forward.

A few purple flames on torches crackled on the wall, making slight _whooshing_ sounds as they burned. Frisk gave each a long look as she passed it, memorizing the flames, promising to herself to remember Toriel, the desperate monster woman who only wanted her family.

It didn't seem real; this adventure, these events. It was as if Frisk were having a very realistic dream, and when she awoke, or left the Ruins, she'd never dream of them again. These final thoughts put an embarrassing hitch in her throat, but she tried not to let it escape. It wasn't very long, but for some reason, it seemed as though she'd been here her whole life.

Finally, the hallway took a sharp left turn, and when Frisk rounded it, she came into a large room with an equally large stone double door. Right in the middle of the worn stone exit, a golden seal had been painted, worn bronze with age. Frisk couldn't help but swallow again.

"There it is." Flowey breathed. "You can leave now."

Flowey started to unwind himself from Frisk's arm, but Frisk surprised him with a tight, stem-snapping hug, to which Flowey gave an " _Oomph_!" of protest.

"Thank you, Flowey." Frisk whispered, and his petals drooped in a surprise. Slowly, his vines wrapped around her as well and for a moment, they just hugged.

Thirty seconds passed in an eternity.

"It's okay… I know, I'm such a wonderful person…" Flowey finally chuckled. He seemed as though he were trying not to let his voice crack. "I believe in you. You know that, Frisk? I believe you'll make it to Asgore's castle, and that you'll exit the Barrier and be able to return home. Y-You're a strong kid."

Frisk sniffled and smiled at him. "When I get there, I'll send you a postcard."

Flowey's face was graced with a smile of his own. "That's right. That's the spirit. Now, get out there, and show them what you're made of, huh?"

Frisk placed Flowey on the ground, and he dug his roots into the dirt. When she straightened up, he stayed where he was.

"I'll see you off." He shrugged stiffly. "You deserve as much."

Frisk nodded uncertainly, trying to be brave. There could be anything beyond that door. At least Flowey would be there to watch her; he'd be with her every step, until the moment that door swung shut.

Frisk breathed in deep. Held it. Let it go.

She stepped toward the doors.

And was interrupted.

* * *

" _Chara_! My child, the Underground is not safe!" Toriel cried suddenly, making Frisk jump. She whirled around quickly, and Flowey shoved his head into the ground like an ostrich. At the mouth of the corridor, Toriel stood with her clawed hands over her mouth. As Frisk watched, Toriel stepped forward with a worried look on her face, and reached out to her.

Frisk stepped back one. Toriel froze.

"My child." Toriel began again, this time a little more insistently. "Come to me. Let us go home."

"Miss Toriel…" Frisk whispered. "I'm not your child. And I am going home."

Toriel only stood rigid, a hard look on her face. Her eyes were narrowed. Her foot began to tap.

"Chara," She began again, yet this time, her tone was cold, and her voice was little more than a growl. "Come to me."

Frisk slowly lifted a hand toward the doors. Flowey was peeking above the soil, his dilated eyes frantically glancing from the goat woman to the fragile human. If this resulted in conflict, Frisk would surely die. And Toriel didn't seem afraid of get her gnarled hands dirty to deal consequences.

"I'll give you to the count of three." Toriel's voice had a terrifying calmness within it. "One."

"Toriel," Frisk whispered nervously. "Please, hear me out. I am not Chara. I'm not your child."

"Two."

"I'm going to the surface. Maybe you can come with me! W-We can find Chara together!" Frisk backed up against the door, swallowing hard. "Toriel…?"

" _Three_." Toriel suddenly whipped back a claw and swung it forward again, the cavern instantly alight with flames. Frisk cried out in fear and flung herself to the ground, narrowly dodging the goat woman's attack.

Frisk quickly rolled out of the way, attempting to get as far away from Toriel as possible. Her head swiveled side to side wildly to find Flowey, but he was nowhere to be seen.

 _He must've ran away when he had the chance._

Among her relief, Frisk couldn't help but feel a little betrayed by this. So much for Flowey being the 'best friend she's got'.

With the little strength she had, she pushed herself to her feet. "Toriel, stop this!"

But it seemed the goat woman was far past reason. After all this time, all this pain, all this sorrow, Toriel had finally cracked. With all the agony and anger she had ever been forced to endure, she screamed. The flames licked higher and the cavern began to shake violently, chips of rock and dirt raining down like some nightmarish storm. Frisk squealed as she covered her head, trying not to get crushed by all the debris.

" _No, Chara!_ " Toriel shrieked as the cavern boiled and fell, getting burned and scathed by her own horrible power. " _You will not leave me! You cannot leave me like everyone else did! My husband and my child may be gone but you shall stay with me_ forever _!_ "

A chunk of stone from the ceiling of the cave fell loose and smacked Toriel on the top of the head, causing her to wail in pain and stagger back a bit, but the damage had been done. The exit to the Ruins was crumbling fast. Soon, everything would cave in and nothing would be left.

Frisk turned around in a panic, banging on the doors desperately. " _Help me_!" She screamed to anyone who might be listening. " _Help me, please_!"

"Frisk!"

Frisk's head snapped up at the shrill voice, and felt her insides burn with relief and awe as Flowey looked down at her from a gaping hole just above the door, the opening leading into the place beyond. His eyes were wide, he was smudged with more dirt than usual, and he strained, reaching for her with his vines. "Frisk, grab hold!"

" _No_! _I forbid it_!" Toriel suddenly snarled from behind, only several yards from where Frisk was backed against the wall. She was cradling a blackened arm and one of her sharp horns had snapped off, leaving a jagged stump. Her eyes were filled with rage and bloodlust and she was covered in thick rich blood.

" _Hurry_ , _Frisk_!" Flowey wailed, reaching for all he was worth.

"Don't you dare!" Toriel roared, making a leap for her.

Frisk took a deep, deep breath, and jumped.

For a moment, it was as though they were moving in slow motion. Flowey stretched, squealing. Toriel bellowed with rage. Frisk felt her whole body fly as her feet left the ground, her fingertips brushing Flowey's vines.

And suddenly, she was yanked upwards. The vines tightened their grip on Frisk's small body, squeezing for all Flowey was worth as he pulled the human to safety. Up, up, up, nine feet into the air. Toriel's claws swiped at the air but it was only miss, miss, miss. Frisk scrabbled into the hole, feeling a slight breeze hit her face from within the dark. Flowey panted and wilted in her arms, and she held him tight as she peeked out the hole again. There was one last thing she had to do.

"Toriel, run! Save yourself!"

Toriel looked up at her, her fangs bared. She said nothing in reply but continued to scream for Chara. The roof of the cave began to collapse.

Flowey tugged weakly at Frisk's arm. "Come on," He sounded pained. "There's nothing we can do for her now."

Frisk nodded stiffly, an agonizing pain in her heart as she turned away and crawled towards the faint light at the end of the tunnel. The last thing she heard was Toriel's tortured cries and the cracking of the roof as the hole behind her slowly filled with debris and cast them into darkness.


	6. Snowy

**Hey, those of you who didn't see Heartache, please read that. I totally forgot to add that chapter before I posted this chapter. I'm sorry, you all. I've been way too preoccupied this last month. Thank you for your patience with me.**

Frisk shoved on the opening of the small tunnel, allowing the entrance to crumble off and fall to the ground. Frisk and Flowey sucked in deep breaths of cool, crisp air. The light that spilled in was a deep red, as though the sun was just going down, even though night had already fallen on the surface. Frisk gave Flowey a puzzled look.

"We don't have sunlight down here. The Underground is lit by the Core." He pointed with a tattered leaf to the sky, and sure enough, an object stuck to the fogged up roof of the colossal cave that made up the Underground, glowing like lava; a deep, molten red.

Frisk swallowed. A constant state of sundown. An intimidating, angry glow from a fiery contraption so far above. What a place.

"It's a little rough around the edges." Flowey admitted. "But it's home."

Frisk looked down and shivered. Nine feet down. It wouldn't be a pleasant thing to fall from this height. She needed to find another way down.

Hesitantly, she wiggled a foot into one of the crevices in the walls. It held, and she swung herself out, gripping tightly to the rough edges of the wall as she slowly, surely, made her way down to the ground below.

Flowey had been right. It was very cold here, with slight fog densing the atmosphere and even snowflakes falling to form a thick blanket of white on the ground. Frisk didn't know how, but black evergreens managed to grow and reach high, threatening to scrape the roof of the cave, hundreds of feet above and covered in frosty stalactites.

Frisk attempted to climb lower but that was when her grip gave out and she suddenly slipped and fell. Luckily, she was only about five feet up, and she didn't hit the ground as hard as she anticipated; only managing to scrape a knee and bump her elbow on the sharp rocks beneath the snow. Flowey had given a muffled shriek when they had fallen but that was abruptly resorted to a slight 'ooph' as he flopped into the snow. He shivered violently and quickly wrapped back around Frisk's arm.

"Oh, I promised myself I'd never come here again." He groaned.

Frisk could sympathise there. It must be incredibly difficult for plants to grow here, this side of these trees. She found it hard to believe _any_ type of creature could live here in these conditions.

She trembled as snow and cold seeped into her wool clothes, causing goosebumps to rise and make her flesh color in pink. Her knee and elbow throbbed and some slight blood from her encounter with Toriel stayed to crust up a bit of her hair and jeans. She felt the slight wind sting her eyes and she blinked away the few hot tears that came as a result.

"Flowey?" She asked, swallowing thickly. "...Are you coming with me?"

Flowey hesitated for a moment. He tensed up on Frisk's arm and Frisk held her breath as he prepared his answer. Finally, he sighed, a plume of frosty air escaping him as he did.

"Well, it's not as if I can go back. And for the sake of keeping you from getting yourself killed… I suppose I could tag along."

The hug caught him off-guard, but he never pulled away.

* * *

Leaving the Ruins was no more of a relief than it was regretful. Frisk felt horrible and sad for leaving Toriel like that. But she didn't have any other choice. Sooner or later, Toriel would snap, and Frisk would die having never seen the light of day again.

She had to get home.

The sound of her boots sinking into the tough, hard snow echoed throughout the empty forest. Not a single bird sang. Not a single insect chirped. Everything was dead.

Frisk gripped her sweater tight around her body in a pathetic attempt to keep the cold out, but it still managed to seep in despite her efforts. Flowey curled in close to her, mumbling his sympathy.

"Do you suppose we'll find anywhere to stay for the night?" Frisk asked numbly, feeling her teeth begin to chatter. "I don't think I cou-could make it with-without sh-shelter."

"A couple miles ahead." Flowey reassured, buried in her turtleneck. "Snowdin town. They have some places you can sneak into. Just make sure they don't see you. As you've probably gathered already, they're not particularly fond of humans."

Frisk nodded with a shuddering breath. By now she'd gathered that Flowey had been here before; and on multiple occasions too. She vaguely wondered when this was, and why.

Suddenly, a twig snapped.

Stiffly, Frisk whirled around. Panic filled her mind and adrenaline began its race through her veins, warming her slightly. Flowey perked up anxiously, scanning the area.

But there was no one there.

"M-Maybe it was just the-the wind?" Frisk stuttered.

Flowey's eyes narrowed and he squinted. "Keep walking."

Frisk asked no questions. She turned on her heels and began her trek again. Flowey kept watch over her shoulder.

"Frisk…" Flowey breathed again, quietly. "We're being followed."

"By what?"

"I don't know. But don't stop. Maybe it'll go away. If it's hunting you, the worst thing to do would be to run and provoke it."

Frisk felt her heart drop into her stomach. "H-Hunting?"

"Here; spread your arms out wide. Make yourself big. Maybe that way they'll see you as a potential threat."

The last thing Frisk wanted was to stop hugging warmth into her body, but, as the alternative was pretty much being slaughtered, she found it in her to will her arms out to the sides. She took longer strides and straightened her posture; sweet mercy it was cold! She gave shuddering gasps and tried to block out the frost surely collecting in her lungs.

Flowey puffed out his petals to make himself bigger, and Frisk was a little surprised at how small he'd been just a few minutes earlier.

"Come on…" Flowey growled. "Go away…."

Another twig snapped.

Frisk's heart almost stopped. She quickened her pace ever so slightly, eyes darting everywhere to find a potential hiding place. All the forest offered was some malnourished trees and sad, quiet snow. She had nowhere to run.

Suddenly, Flowey pointed. "There! That bridge!"

Frisk saw it; a large structure of broken wood and drooping ropes. It wasn't a very large chasm that it provided passage across, but it seemed to have been made for the reason of convenience just the same. Frisk headed straight for it.

When they reached the bridge, Frisk set down her arms and looked it over. It gave off the air of a haunted house, with its unnerving stillness and the whistling of wind through the cracks. Nevertheless the bridge seemed stable enough. Frisk raised a foot to step onto it.

"ah, ah, i wouldn't step on that if i was you."

Frisk jumped, letting out a little squeak as she did, and Flowey puffed out his petals in fear. Frisk whirled around to apprehend the person who spoke.

It was a short person, donned in black, with a fluffy jacket hood covering most of his face; only his white, sharp-toothed smile showed from underneath, with a single gold tooth. He couldn't have been taller than Frisk herself, and his clothes hung off his body loosely, as if he were just bones. His voice had been hoarse and rough.

He cocked his head at her, still grinning. For a moment they just stared at each other, saying nothing. He gave her an expectant nod, and that's when Frisk realised he wanted her to say something back.

"...Why?" She answered timidly, hoping he wouldn't suddenly lash out and snap her neck.

The person giggled; a strange, reverberating sound that didn't sit well with the small human and the flower.

"lemme show you 'why'."

And with that, he shoved Frisk aside-quite rudely for that matter-and strode up to the bridge without a care in the world. His head flopped back on his shoulder to ensure Frisk was watching before suddenly whacking one of the bridge's posts.

There was a sickening CRACK, and the bridge began to slope and cave. The wood broke and the ropes snapped and the bridge bent in a 'V' into the chasm. It hung like that for a few seconds before breaking in half and falling down to the frozen riverbed below. If the fall didn't kill you, which was the likely outcome as the fall was only around ten feet, the rain of splintering wood would have. Frisk had been close to that happening to her.

She looked at the person in shock and horror. "W-What… Why…?"

The guy snickered again and faced her. His hood rode up the slightest bit and Frisk could see that there was a spade-shaped hole where his nose should be. He was definitely a monster. But _what kind_ of monster?

The monster grinned darkly.

"i just prefer… to eat my humans _alive_."

Flowey and Frisk froze in synch, their breaths caught in their throats. For a moment, the three of them just stared at each other, Frisk's fight or flight burning in her chest as she contemplated whether or not she could outrun this monster. Certainly he was weaker than her; he was a skinny, ratty thing. Surely the intimidation was limited to his looks.

Suddenly, the guy snorted, and began to laugh loudly. It was funny how he laughed; short bursts of voice, as if he were out of breath, and he doubled over when he did, clutching his stomach or whatever was under that jacket of his.

"ha ha ha! i _got_ you! i got you _so_ good! you should've seen your face!" He wheezed, actually tripping and falling back into the snow. He snorted a few times and looked back up at Frisk with a big smug grin, a shadow over his eyes. But he didn't seem hostile. In fact, besides Flowey, this monster seemed to be the friendliest thing Frisk had met, and he didn't seem all that friendly.

He caught Frisk staring and frowned. "what are you looking at, freak?" Then he smirked. "can't resist my good looks?"

"Um…" Frisk stuttered. She didn't know what to say to him. But Flowey did. He muttered a string of curses before angrily demanding, " _Who are you_?!"

The monster laughed again and pushed himself to his feet. He wobbled a bit and coughed once, twice, thrice into his gloved hand. Then lifted his head just enough that his face was finally revealed. Frisk gasped at the sight of him.

His eyes were two black voids on a canvas of white bone. His mouth wasn't a grin but rather two lipless rows of teeth, sharp and ready to bite down hard on anything he could get into it. Within the right empty eye socket, a ring of threatening red gleamed, casting an eerie glow on the inside of his skull.

"how rude of me. my apologies, sweetheart." He chuckled, not sounding very sorry. "allow me to introduce myself. i'm sans. sans the skeleton."

 **"BUT ACCENT!" You shriek, "SANS ISN'T SKINNY!"**

 **Trust me, I've got a good reason for this. In the meantime, tell me what you think. Do you trust my Sans? What happened to Toriel? And what will fate lay out for Frisk and Flowey?**

 **THE TENSION IS REAL.**

 **xXLoveThatAccentXx**


	7. Sans

"you're a long way from the surface, aren'tcha, honey?" Sans gave them a look quite similar to that of one raising an eyebrow. "tell me. how'd you get here?"

Frisk said nothing.

Sans's left eye suddenly glowed a bit brighter, and, if possible, his eye sockets grew wider. Frisk swallowed as Sans gave her and Flowey a long look through the shadow cast by his furry hood.

"let's try that again." He encouraged slowly, his grin seeming a bit more malicious than before. Frisk flinched as he continued. " _how did you get down here_ , sweetheart?"

Frisk gave a shuddering breath before replying in a tiny voice, "I fell."

"of course you did." Sans huffed sarcastically, rolling his eye. He turned around and began walking toward the small chasm, kicking loose snow to the riverbed below. "curiosity killed the human, after all." He snorted, and knelt down, brushing away the last of the white powder. "still don't get how that managed to work seven times. here, follow me, buttercup."

Feeling a cold chill trickle down her spine, Frisk opened her mouth to ask what Sans meant by 'seven times', but she was interrupted when he turned around and called, "you coming or what? unless you want to stay here and freeze." It was then she realized Sans had cleared away a metal ladder that led down into the chasm. Monsters didn't go over it; they went _through_ it. Any local would know that.

For a moment, Frisk just stood there, unable to translate Sans's body language. If she followed him, would he kill her?

 _If he wanted me to die, I'd be dead already,_ Frisk attempted to reason with herself. This Sans guy hadn't lashed out at her once yet. Not to mention he stopped her from crossing the booby-trapped bridge. So what was the worse that could happen?

"Frisk…?" Flowey breathed hesitantly, squeezing her arm slightly. "We should run…."

Frisk bit her lip, volleying her gaze between the waiting red-eyed skeleton and her tattered flower companion. She understood why Flowey was worried, but Sans didn't seem all that concerned in killing her. Perhaps it'd be the best idea to stay near the skeleton. Maybe he'd be willing to guide her to Snowdin. It was better than the alternative, as Flowey clearly didn't know how else to proceed.

Timidly, she stepped forward.

"Frisk!" Flowey moaned, petals curling in. "We can't trust him! Stop!"

"that's the spirit, sweetheart. come on down!" He grinned, sliding down the rails and disappearing from sight. Frisk hurried up to watch him descend, and was surprised to find that he was already there, standing on the ice, beckoning with a skeletal hand.

"Don't." Flowey warned.

Frisk boarded the ladder.

"Frisk!"

The rungs were freezing cold and slick with ice. Frisk felt the temperature seep into her skin and it sent a jolt through her body, nearly causing her to slip. She turned her head cautiously to look down. Sans stared up at her, smirking. As she watched, he suddenly leaned forward slightly to cough once, twice, thrice into his hands again. Was he sick or something?

She turned back to the ladder and took in a deep breath, letting it out slow and allowing the air from her lungs to escape warm and cloudy. Her limbs were stiff and she was shivering badly; bad news since this feat required flexibility and stillness. _Just let one foot down after the other, and go slow…_

The third rung down, she slipped.

She gasped and could barely manage a squeal as she fell. Flowey shrieked and gripped her arm tighter. It was too much of a surprise and it happened too quickly for her to remember most of it; but sooner than later, she felt a sudden weightlessness followed directly by a gentle drop, and he caught her.

Frisk stared at Sans with wide eyes as he readjusted her weight. She didn't know how he slowed her fall like that, but she decided that it wasn't worth questioning. For a skinny thing, he sure wasn't weak like Frisk had originally thought. Sans smirked again.

"hi again, sweetheart. is that you falling for me?" He joked apathetically, and Frisk felt the corners of her mouth tug up, despite Flowey's angry groan and demand to be set down.

Maybe Sans wasn't so bad after all.

* * *

Sans walked two feet ahead of them and didn't talk a whole lot. Not because he was socially awkward or angry, but rather because most of that time was spent clearing his throat and coughing. Flowey had leaned in close to Frisk's ear to stress about catching whatever sickness Sans seemed to possess, so Frisk made it a point to walk a ways behind him.

"up ahead is my station." Sans explained after they'd travelled for a bit. "i don't look it, but i'm a sentry in these parts. supposed to keep watch; be on the lookout for sweet little lost things like yourself."

Flowey leaned in close to Frisk's ear. "There weren't sentries when I came here last. They must be relatively new in Snowdin." After a short pause and biting his lip, he continued, "Don't trust him, Frisk. I don't like the way he's acting."

Frisk shot him a flat look. "You mean there aren't any _nice_ monsters in Snowdin? _Anywhere_? Come on, Flowey, you said you've never seen him before, that he's new. Maybe he's different."

"I'm just saying you should keep your guard up." He responded irritably, tightening his grip around her arm. He had a strange look in his eyes. "You're not in the Ruins anymore. _I'm_ not in the Ruins anymore. Surprises could come at any turn."

"the buttercup's right, sweetheart." Sans called back without warning, making both of them jump. Frisk couldn't see Sans' face but she could feel his gold-toothed grin, like a chill down her spine. "don't trust anybody."

Frisk swallowed, and confronted bravely, "Not even _you_?"

Sans didn't stop walking, but he turned his head, just enough so that Frisk could see the intimidating red glow of his eye.

"not even me."

* * *

A snow-capped station peaked in the distance, and Frisk assumed that was the sentry stop their skeletal guide had told them about. As it got nearer and nearer, though, something began to feel… off. Flowey's stem was tensing up around her arm and Sans's pace was getting faster. That's when she noticed it. The tinny _whump whump_ of heavy, metal footsteps.

They spoke not a word, but the tension stayed as they approached the station. Frisk's hair began to stand on end, not with cold, but this time, with terror. Terror of the inevitable. Terror of the unknown.

Sans coughed and slipped into the station, propping his chin on his hands. He jerked his head a few times in a specific direction, and Frisk looked around in confusion. Flowey began to tremble with anxiety with every second they wasted. Frisk gave Sans a helpless look.

He gestured again pointedly. _the lamp_.

Lamp? What lamp? Frisk whirled around quickly to finally see it-a purple and black lamp about the size of a small child. Kid-sized. Frisk-sized.

Frisk slipped behind the lamp just in time for the loud figure to appear, his huge metal boots banging loudly against the frosty ground with metallic _chang_ s.

"SANS!" A throaty voice boomed, and Frisk flinched in their hiding spot. They slightly turned their head just enough to see past the edge of the lamp and out towards the station, so she could at least see what was going on.

Looming a couple feet over Sans's handmade structure was another skeleton, only this one wasn't small and ratty. His white bones were thick and strong and compact, every joint making him all the more sturdy and able. The mandible of his skull was full of sharp teeth, stained with gray, powdery stuff, and his top row of teeth boasted fangs. There was a jagged crack over one gaping eyesocket, which was glowing menacingly with red, but unlike Sans, there were lights shining in both eyes. He was clad in black and red armor that made his large body even larger, and he towered above everything in the area. If this was the skeleton Frisk had met first, there was no doubt he'd have killed her right away.

"WHAT IS THIS?" The skeleton shrieked, his voice like a chainsaw, sweeping his hand across the station. "WHY ARE YOU STILL HERE? YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BE PATROLLING FOR HUMANS, YOU MISERABLE CREATURE!"

"sorry boss." Sans droned, clearly not too impressed. "tired."

" _TIRED_?! YOU SLEPT THE NIGHT THROUGH!" The larger skeleton protested angrily. "YOU SAY YOU HAVEN'T PATROLLED YET? THE EAST SIDE? THE LAKE? EVEN THE ENTRANCE TO THE RUINS?!" When Sans opened his mouth to argue that he had, in fact, been near the Ruins, the skeleton cut him off with a rather loud groan. "I CAN'T BELIEVE I HAVE TO DO EVERYTHING MYSELF!"

"come on, papyrus, just stop already." Sans muttered, glaring off into the expanse of black trees. "we're never gonna find a human. a human hasn't passed through the underground in like three years."

"OH? WHAT ABOUT THAT SWEET LITTLE BLUE SOUL LAST WINTER?"

Frisk tensed up, and she felt Flowey sigh deeply in defeat. ... _Souls?_

Sans said nothing, so Papyrus continued. "THAT'S RIGHT, THE ONE THAT JUST HAPPENED TO PASS BY WITHOUT YOU NOTICING. OOH, WHAT ABOUT THAT ORANGE SOUL? OR THAT GREEN ONE? YOU NEVER SAW THEM, DID YOU? YOU KNOW, SANS, I'M BEGINNING TO THINK YOU TURNED THE OTHER CHEEK FOR THEM. YOU HELPED THEM."

"how _dare_ you accuse me of that?" Sans snarled at him, banging his fist on the table. "i just never saw them come through. you know my sight's not like yours; look at this!" He pointed to his empty eye socket. "if you want a human so bad, get one yourself."

"GREAT TO SEE YOU'RE SO HYPED ABOUT HELPING ME. I EXPECT YOU TO HAVE PATROLLED THE EAST SIDE AND THE LAKE BEFORE YOU COME HOME." Papyrus turned around and began to stomp off in the other direction. Then he hesitated, and turned to look back. "OR UNDYNE HEARS IT THIS TIME."

Sans set his jaw and sighed. "...fine."

As Papyrus's heavy footsteps faded off down the path, Frisk finally let herself breathe. Flowey peeked out, and affirmed it was safe enough to come out. Frisk went straight for the sentry station, and the glowering skeleton inside.

He looked up at her tiredly. "just get out of here."

She felt her confident stature wilt a bit at his words. Flowey pulled gently on her arm and pointed down the road, mouthing 'Snowdin', and she began walking in that direction. A couple feet away, she stopped and looked back. Sans was coughing into his hand again, not paying attention.

"Thank you," she called hesitantly. He said nothing.

But as she walked away, she could've sworn she heard a quiet laugh.


	8. NYAH HAH HAH!

Turns out, not many monsters knew what a human looked like. They'd heard the stories; they knew the words by upside-down heart, but it'd been so many years since they had touched the surface, too many generations come and gone, that they couldn't remember china doll-faces or soft hair. They couldn't remember two arms and two legs and a smile of white teeth. They couldn't remember humanity for what it was and what it used to be.

Frisk learned with her time on the streets of Snowdin that young monsters worried about jagged toothed beings with scales and spikes and extra long fingernails, sunken eyes and gaping mouths. Terrifying creatures that even monsters were scared of. Humans.

It made Frisk sad. But at the same time, she was deeply thankful for the misconception. When she passed through, no one recognised her for what she really was. They gave her strange looks and little frowns, but as far as they knew, she was simply a young monster whom they'd never seen before. Frisk would rather keep it that way.

She didn't have any money, but Flowey managed to scrape together enough gold for them to stay one night at the Snowed Inn. The little hotel was a worn brick building a couple stories high and windowless, fit snugly in between the few other buildings that made up Snowdin; a tiny shop, a library and a bar. The door in front was thick and wooden, and the word 'OPEN' had been scratched into it as if a sign would've been inconvenient. When Frisk went in, a distorted bell warbled.

"Welcome to the Snowed Inn." A scraggly bunny lady at the counter droned, staring at the empty wall with narrowed eyes. "One night or multiple."

"One," Flowey requested, and Frisk tightened her lips. It wasn't as though she wanted to _stay_ in Snowdin, but she wasn't keen on leaving so soon.

Flowey pushed the money across the counter, and the bunny slid a key over in return. Frisk looked down at it. It was big and old-fashioned, and engraven with the letter 'E'. She frowned. 'E'? Why 'E'?

"Room E," The bunny gave her an expectant look. "You know, up the hall, to the left? I take it you know the alphabet?"

"Frisk…" Flowey shoved her arm. "Let's go?"

Oh. The room number. Or letter. Frisk shook her head and smiled. "Uh, yeah. Thank you."

The bunny lady looked at her strangely as she walked away, as if she wasn't used to being thanked. "Uh... yeah, you're welcome, I guess."

* * *

The room was a humble few square feet, with a twin bed in the corner, a nightstand, and a dresser. No windows.

Frisk pulled the rusty chain on the lamp and a weak glow illuminated the room. A rough carpet threatened to rub her feet raw, so she only removed her shoes once she was safely in the bed. She set Flowey on the pillow and he huffed in content.

"Wait," He said, perking up. "Lock the door."

Frisk did. The sound of the lock sent a little trim of relief through her. Instantly, all the tension of the day melted away and she sighed, feeling her exhaustion catch up to her. She settled in next to Flowey, and he curled up against her, asleep in seconds.

Something cold pressed against her neck and she reached up to feel it. It was the locket she'd picked up in the Ruins. She didn't know why, but it gave her a sense of comfort… as if a guardian angel stood nearby, keeping watch over her.

Little did she know that someone was.

 _Goodnight, Frisk._

* * *

As she laced her shoes the next morning, she asked Flowey about the other humans. He froze and pressed his mouth into a thin line.

"It's nothing. They're long gone by now."

"Flowey…" Frisk pleaded. "I need to know. What happened to the others?"

There was a long silence from the flower. Finally, he whispered, "...They didn't make it."

"...They died?"

"Frisk, you have to understand. People are scared. People who are desperate for freedom. Human souls are worth thousands of ours, and if seven of them can break the Barrier once and for all, well… people are going to take that chance."

"So, when you said monsters will rip out my soul… that actually happens?"

"More often than you'd think. Monsters even try to rip out and absorb the souls of other monsters. Of course, monster souls deteriorate without a body. It never works." Flowey shrugged halfheartedly.

As Frisk collected her things and unlocked the door, she stopped. Slowly, she asked, "Have you attempted that, once?"

Flowey said nothing.

* * *

It was cold outside. Monsters ran this way and that, yelling things irritably and throwing things into bushes. When Frisk looked questioningly to Flowey, he explained, "Every town has a different way of keeping night crawlers away."

Frisk remembered what Flowey had told her in the Ruins. Night crawlers were nocturnal monsters, more like animals than civilized beings.

Flowey looked amused at the Snowdin people throwing things around. "The noise scares away any night crawlers that are still lurking. Come on, let's go before something smacks you in the head."

They picked up their trek from yesterday, weaving through snow mounds and tall evergreens. Scattered along the path were little piles of gray dust and empty suits of armor. Flowey flinched like it was a gruesome scene, but Frisk could only swallow, and forge on. A snowman yelled at them when they got too close to it, and a dog sentry freaked out whether she moved. It took some time standing still in order for him to finally leave her alone. Two large dogs in cloaks attempted to decapitate her with huge axes, and Frisk narrowly managed to escape by climbing a tree.

She was still gasping high up in the branches when the dogs were long gone and instead… a new sound came.

The metallic stomps of an angry skeleton.

Frisk held her breath and Flowey kept his eyes wide open as Papyrus strode under the tree, growling and flipping through a… was that a pamphlet?

"GOOD MORNING TO YOU, UNDYNE! AS YOU CAN SEE, I'VE CAPTURED A HUMAN, AND I… NO, NO! I MUST BE MORE PROFESSIONAL!" Papyrus cleared his throat again, sounding uncannily like Sans. "UNDYNE, SIR! I BRING YOU THIS HUMAN AS PASSPORT INTO THE ROYAL GUARD! NYEH, I LIKE THAT. PASSPORT."

"Is he… rehearsing?" Flowey breathed. "And for some reason I thought he was a warrior."

"UNDYNE!" Papyrus announced extravagantly. "I HAVE CAPTURED A HUMAN AS REQUESTED! NOW, STEP ASIDE! I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, SHALL AT LAST TAKE MY DESERVED PLACE IN THE ROYAL GUARD!"

Frisk accidentally shifted too much and a loose twig fell through the branches, clattering down to the forest floor below. As it landed, Papyrus jumped, an embarrassing little squeal escaping him.

He whirled around, a thick femur materializing in his hands and his eyes glowing. "WHO'S THERE?!"

Frisk put a finger to her lips and Flowey gave her a look like 'I know!'. At any moment Papyrus could look up, see them, shoot them down with something sharp. Frisk hoped he'd leave quickly.

He was still peering around suspiciously. Frisk considered throwing something across the field, in hopes Papyrus would follow it, but it didn't seem likely he'd fall for it.

Then, a phone rang.

Papyrus jumped again, but he recovered rather quickly this time, sighing deeply and fishing out a blocky thing from his front pocket. He answered the phone with no grace or respect. " _YES_ , UNDYNE?"

A loud voice came from the other end, but Frisk couldn't make out the words. Papyrus, however, enjoyed repeating whatever the recipient said, allowing Frisk to understand a good chunk of their conversation.

"SO ALPHYS _DID_ SEE A HUMAN ON HER CAMERAS? I KNEW IT! THAT IDIOT BROTHER OF MINE REALLY MUST BE BLIND!" Papyrus listened a bit more. He scowled. "HOLD YOUR TONGUE, UNDYNE. ONLY I AM ALLOWED TO SPEAK OF HIM THAT WAY. HAVE YOU MADE ANY PROGRESS WITH THE OTHER SOULS? THE EXPERIMENTS? I SUSPECTED AS MUCH. YES… WORRY NOT, UNDYNE. I SHALL CAPTURE THE HUMAN, AS REQUESTED."

Frisk swallowed. It seemed there'd be no way around an encounter with Papyrus; he seemed extremely set on capturing a human, and no doubt he'd be searching tirelessly.

Then she perked up. _Sans_. He'd know what to do, wouldn't he? He didn't seem very worried about capturing Frisk, so maybe he'd help her! She pulled Flowey a bit closer, earning a weird look from him.

"YES…" Papyrus continued, grinning maliciously. "THEY"LL NEVER KNOW WHAT HIT THEM."


	9. Grillby's

**'The Recovery' has been updated, so I thought I'd update this too. Should answer some questions, but I hope it sounds good to you guys!**

 **/xXLoveThatAccentXx**

Sans wasn't at his station.

Frisk frowned, glancing down at Flowey. Flowey sighed roughly.

"If you're going to find him, you need to find him quickly." Flowey growled tersely. "Papyrus could find us at any time. You _do_ remember that he wants to _rip your soul out,_ right?"

Frisk bit her lip. She turned from the post and made her way back to Snowdin. Maybe he went into town for something. He was probably the only person who could help her now.

"I just wish…" Frisk began thoughtfully, then she stopped, and shut her mouth. Flowey didn't say anything about it for a good bit of time before curiosity took over and he asked, "What?"

"It's nothing… I just wish there was some way to make friends." She admitted.

The flower sighed deeply. "Welcome to the underground."

* * *

They couldn't progress to Waterfall since Papyrus kept it under guard, so they returned to Snowdin in hopes of finding Sans. The town was less excited now, as most Night Crawlers had run off, and a lot of people were walking from place to place. Frisk was heading back to the Inn when she saw him.

A small figure draped in a dark jacket leaned in the alleyway between the shop and the Inn, as though he were trying not to be seen. But Frisk saw him and she knew who he was.

"Flowey, look!" She pointed, and Flowey perked up.

"Sans," He breathed. "Go, maybe we can catch him!"

Frisk started toward him. He didn't seem to notice her coming toward him, he just continued to lean on the wall and check his wrist every so often. It occurred to Frisk he was waiting for someone.

 _Did he know I'd come back?_ She thought in confusion.

As she drew near, he looked over his shoulder. "you're late."

Frisk was about to answer when she realised he wasn't taking to her. She quickly ducked behind the wall as a new figure showed up. This one was about as tall as Sans, with a long snout and yellow skin. There was a hood over their face, so she couldn't get a good look at them, but from the shape, they had to be much better fed than Sans.

"I arrived the same time I always do." The figure hissed - quite literally. From the voice, it had to be female. "You're just _eager_."

"you wouldn't understand." Sans growled.

The figure scoffed. She dug around in her pockets and pulled something out; a little case of something.

"Drugs?" Flowey flinched quietly.

"I wouldn't be surprised." Frisk muttered reluctantly. Sans didn't seem to be one of standards. Luckily, Frisk's standards for friends was low already.

As Sans reached for it, the figure yanked it away. "Ah, Ah! Aren't you forgetting something?"

The skeleton sighed and pulled out some coins, counting them. He handed the figure a couple of them, and she in turn gave him the case.

"You're freakin' welcome." She growled. "But I'm running out. Hopefully this thing finally clears up by next month."

"i wouldn't count on it, alphys." Sans shook his head somewhat sadly.

"Well, that's your problem, not mine. Best of wishes, blah blah blah." Alphys turned and stalked away. Then she turned again.

"Oh, by the way," She called. "Next time you bring a friend, make sure they know how to properly eavesdrop."

Sans looked taken aback, and Frisk froze. Sans whirled around and, upon seeing them, immediately began to run. Frisk was startled but quickly lurched to follow him.

Sans was fast. Not as fast as some others Frisk knew but he was certainly faster than her. She struggled to keep up as he weaved through the walking Snowdin residents, calling out to him.

"Wait!" She shouted, and Flowey latched tightly onto her as she pushed herself harder. "Please, come back!"

Sans did not stop. However, he did slow. Not by much, but he was coughing again and couldn't run as fast. By now they'd left Snowdin and were flying across the open snow-covered plains. His jacket whipped behind him as he gained more ground.

"Sans, get _back_ here!" Flowey screamed.

Frisk didn't expect that to work, but she was surprised as the skeleton skid across the ice, slowing to a stop. Then she began to sweat as he started running again - _straight at her_.

She squealed and took off in the other direction. "I take it back! I take it back!"

It was too late; Snowdin was far behind her so she wouldn't be able to lose him there. His newfound rage seemed to give him wings and he jumped her as soon as he was close enough. Both of them tumbled violently into the snow.

Sans pinned her, glowering into her face with his unsettling red eye. " _why were you following me?!_ "

Frisk flinched and clenched her teeth. "I just needed help!"

"so you spy on me!"

"I didn't mean to, I… you shouldn't have been there anyway!" Frisk gained some confidence as she found it in her to confront him on the activities she caught him in. "Dealing in alleyways like that. What's your addiction? Some underground mushroom?"

Frisk trailed off when his expression fell from anger to confusion.

"what are you _talking_ about?" He looked offended. "are you saying… you think these…?"

Sans sat back on his shoes, yanking Frisk into a sitting position. He pulled the case from his pocket and shoved it in her face. " _prescription_ , human, _prescription_!"

"P-Prescription…?" Frisk took the case and looked inside, sifting through all the tablets. "For what?"

"i thought it'd be obvious." He replied flatly. As if to highlight his point, he began to cough again, covering his mouth with his sleeve.

Frisk was quiet for a bit. She asked, "What is it?"

"you'd think i would know by now, but…" Sans shrugged stiffly, taking the case back. "...how about we go to grillby's. you probably expect me to explain a few things."

* * *

Turns out, Grillby's was the bar near the Inn. It was small in comparison to the other buildings around town, but certainly not small enough to keep the crowds away. Lounging in booths along the walls or leaning on tables and focused intently on card games were the sentries; shaggy dogs in black cloaks, armor, and in a few cases, karate gear. Every one of them had a spiked cuff clipped tightly around their necks, broken chains dangling from them, swinging back and forth when they moved, like sharp braids on pioneer girls. Luckily, they didn't seem to notice Frisk as she passed by them with Sans; apparently, the skeleton's presence turned all their focus away.

It wasn't a very classy place, and definitely not that clean, but it was warm, and Frisk and Flowey welcomed it as though the place was paradise.

The bartender- Grillby, as addressed by Sans- had a ball of flame for a head, rectangular glasses resting on what could only be his nose miraculously without burning away. He wiped the inside of a cup dry with a rag as they approached, and Sans hopped onto a barstool with practised ease for his height, requesting something from the menu that Frisk could only assume was a regular for him. The other patrons gave him irritable looks but Grillby seemed respectful enough and that was all Sans needed to be contented, it appeared. Perhaps he was just as much of an outcast as Frisk.

"you comin' up, honey?" Sans snorted, acknowledging Frisk's awkward standing behind him. He kicked the seat next to him with his boot; his feet didn't even touch the floor. "come on, i don't bite." Then he winked. "hard."

Frisk chuckled a bit despite herself, and Flowey curled his lip distastefully.

When she finally managed to haul herself onto the barstool next to him, he hummed and rested his arms on the table. "she's with me, grillbz. bring her some fries or somethin."

Grillby shrugged stiffly and turned around to go into the back room. Frisk called after him, "Thank you!", albeit quietly. Nevertheless, it made him falter a bit, puzzled, before shrugging again and pushing through the door.

As soon as they were mostly out of earshot, Sans spoke.

"you know… nobody knows about my… problem. no one 'cept grillbz, i mean… not even papyrus." He pulled a mustard container from its perch across from him and slid it over the countertop between his two hands, apathetically. "you're actually the only one who's ever caught me tradin'. tell me… why were you spyin' in the first place? no one 'round here cares about what happens with me, so why did you?"

Frisk set her jaw and stared at the countertop. "I was looking for you, hoping you'd give me some advice about Papyrus. When I saw you, I got worried. For your health."

He snorted. "my _health_? that's a laugh. and you say papyrus is lookin' for you? yeah... have fun with that."

Frisk was taken aback at his words. "You won't… help me?"

"i'm afraid there ain't nothin i can do to stop papyrus from stabbing you in the face, sweetheart. you're on your own there. however," He added. "i can give you a hint to surviving this whole mess, guaranteed."

Frisk sat at attention.

Sans held a hand to the side of his mouth, as if to tell a secret. Frisk leaned a little closer- but not too close.

" _give up, kid_."

Flowey's petals poofed in anger. " _What_?" He hissed. "No! Not now! We've come so far!"

Sans shrugged and leaned back. "it's what i did. i'm still alive, aren't i? tell you what; give up your journey, stay in snowdin, live a few more years, kay?"

"But we have to get to the Surface!" Flowey argued quietly, making sure not to draw any other monster's attention. "Frisk can't stay here anyway. We're running too low on gold to stay at the inn, and it's too cold here to stay in the streets…"

Sans shrugged again, smirking. "if you're hinting me to offer shelter at _my_ house, i would tell you that it would be much to _inconvenient_ for me, not to mention i have a sneaky suspicion paps wouldn't like that very much. so… yeah, guess you _are_ screwed, huh?"

Grillby returned with the orders. As soon as her tray of fries was slid in front of her, Frisk's eyes widened. The smell was amazing, like a greasy heaven. Needless to say, she dug right in, holding a few out for Flowey to nibble on as well.

"call it a last meal." Sans chuckled, but Frisk ignored him. What a pessimist. He was almost as bad as Flowey.

The tray was small, and Frisk finished quickly. She licked her fingers to get the last of the salt, and turned once more to Sans. "Are you sure you can't… talk to him?"

He rested his chin in his palm, fingers curling into one of his eye sockets; the empty one that bore no light. Frisk would've called it disturbing if the real meaning wasn't so terribly sad.

"that wouldn't end well for me, honey."


End file.
